Only a day ago I was lambasting Jared Leto for saying “all blogs should die a sudden death”, and boy did I speak too soon because, today having stumbled upon the online presence of Cory Kennedy, it turns out that Leto hit the bulls-eyeliner. You’re probably wondering who Cory Kennedy is, and your curiousity would be justified as she’s an otherwise uninteresting human being whose sole claim to fame is being the waif-like teenage runaway girlfriend of the increasingly ubiquitous hipster photographer known as “The Cobrasnake” (Full Disclosure: In my spare time, I make fun of said photographer over at Gawker. Additional Disclosure: if I ever become a hipster photographer, I’m going to call myself “The Bobcatcat”). ANYWAY, as her boyfriend’s increasing fame has given her access to the Hollywood circles of which we usually speak around here, and about whom she posts on her blog (each nugget of celebrity encounter ususally titled with a lyric from some painfully obvious hipster anthem by The Smiths or The Strokes or Pulp or whatever), we thought you might be interested in her brilliant insight, such as:

nate, luke and i headed to paris’s house where it was just nutso. everyone was there. ‘i hate brandon davis i kicked him out of my house! i hate him….!’

oh by the way this is paris, nicky, and lindsey lohan talking by the pool.

‘look paris i just want all this drama to stop’
‘dont believe anything they say lins!!!! theyll say anything its not true. fuck brandon and fucking firecrotch shit. we love you so much.’
‘you look so hot btw’
-lindsey laughs-

We write this post under the assumption that you’ve seen the famous “Mentos in Coke” video experiments. (We’ll wait.) But we bet you didn’t realize the other amazing powers of candies in liquid… thankfully, the Nobody’s Watching guys find out for us.

“We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half-full of cocaine and a whole galaxy of multicolored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers… also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls.”

– Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

I like to party as much as the next guy, but that really seems like a lot of narcotics for a 73 year-old.

Before he became The Annoying Filmmaker Who Defined a Generation of Disaffected Youth, Zach Braff was just an annoying film student who, like so many of his peers, seemed to enjoy making meandering little movie projects that could test the patience of even the most trancendent Zen Buddhist. The only thing that’s particularly surprising about this little short film is that it preceded the “Use of Measured Senitivity and Ironic Humor to Cope With Late Twenties Existential Crises” creative phase our little auteur currently seems to be stuck in (much to the delight of college kids and other people who prefer to be beaten over the head with “meaning”). Not really sure what generational anxiety Zach was trying to address in this little opus, but I’m sure he was speaking for somebody (the schizophrenic, perhaps). Your challenge is see how long you can withstand watching it. Leave your time in the comments – and no cheating!

This whole “In a Can” business seems to have just cancelled itself out. A few days ago, we were introduced to “Cocaine in a Can“, a new drink that promised to deliver the same sort of hyperactive tooth-grindingly paranoid results as the real powdered stuff. And it looks like Lindsay Lohan may have drank herself into bit of a “Cocaine in a Can” addiction, as she was seen trolling around LA yesterday with its canned antidote: Rehab in a Can. If only “Underwear in a Can” or “Normail Childhood Upbringing in a Can” existed, eh? Ah, but life ain’t that simple.

We also want to point out that even with a “sprained” wrist, Lindsay can still manage to juggle a can o’hab, lighter, and her beloved Blackberry without even wincing. Doctors in the house, is that even possible?

Monica Lewinsky. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen the girl, and we’re glad to see the understandable binge eating has come to a halt. So, hey! Monica Lewinsky, from us to you: You’re not looking half bad!

The longest 3 months of our lives are finally over, as The Office finally had its big premiere last night. And so many questions were answered! Jim changing offices, Pam cancelling the wedding, Roy‘s “Nick Nolte” mugshot, Phyllis engaged to Bob Vance… many bases covered. The episode, entitled “Gay Witch Hunt”, revolved around Oscar being outed as a homosexual by Michael to the entire staff. We don’t remember the last time we’ve so openly winced at a primetime sit-com; Angela‘s constant hand sanitizing made us want to gut ourselves. And poor Jim! His new officemates seem to have zero redeeming qualities (perhaps too close to our own depressing office experiences to enjoy). While we thought the “other” big kiss at the end was going a leeeetle too far, Steve Carell as per usual sold it so hilariously, we were dying laughing. Things are different with Jim gone!

NBC.com has a very satisfying deleted scenes reel that sheds some light onto Michael’s love life. We wish these scenes would have made it into last night’s episode — “body pillows” are just funnier than “jello calculators.” It’s science.

Next week sounds amazing: “Michael organizes a party in his hotel room when he, Dwight and Jan attend a convention in Philadelphia.” What were your favorite scenes last night? Satisfied with the kick-off?